I had an entire conversation with a friend, yesterday, about the state of our childrens’ hair. Yes, if you are a mom, you’re nodding your head in understanding, and if not, you’re realizing that this is what our lives are about and… hey! Where are you going??

Her stance was that–although her son recently cut his own hair for reasons not entirely clear, and now looks sort of like a doofus–giving a child a buzz cut in New England in winter is cruel and unusual. His head will be cold! I pointed out that regardless of the length of the hair, a hat is in order from October until April, so what matter the hair length?

Of course, this is easy for me to say. My boychild sported a buzz cut exclusively for the first three years of his life. Up until then, trying to get him to hold still for an actual haircut was an exercise in madness. The thirty seconds I needed to run the clippers over his head was doable. As he grew older, things changed. For one thing, he became bribable. The promise of candy as a reward for holding still for 600 seconds instead of just 30 was a powerful motivator. Also I was tiring of people noting his striking resemblance to Curious George (we don’t call him Monkey for nothing, ya know). So we grew out the buzz to the standard “little boy haircut” and every six to eight weeks I chase him down and duct tape him to a stool in the kitchen and he whines that his nose itches and the water is dripping in his eyes and his neck is scratchy and I’m cutting off his ears.

Yesterday morning, Monkey arose from bed with such an alarming profusion of bedhead that I almost hurt myself laughing. “What?” he humphed at me.

“You look like a hedgehog, buddy. Go look in the mirror.” He trotted into the bathroom and admired his wild ‘fro.

“Wow!” he said. “I sure do look like a hedgehog. Mama, what’s a hedgehog?” I explained, and then added that our first order of business after school was going to be giving him a haircut.
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I’d like to introduce you to my son’s latest obsession. Perhaps some of you XY types can come on in here and lend me some of that insight that can only come from testosterone poisoning, because frankly, I am stumped. This is Martian Manhunter, a.k.a. John Jones, a.k.a. J’onn J’onzz (which I’m thinking is his rap star name). He’s evidently a very cool dude, and I–in my unhip femaleness and even worse, MOMness–am unable to grasp his inherent fabulousness. I see a big green ugly dude in a blue diaper (and let’s be honest here: the package? nonexistent. Perhaps he did too many steroids, poor guy) and ill-fitting boots. Also he appears to be wearing a toddler leash. But who am I to judge?

Here is what I know: Martian Manhunter has been present in every incarnation of the Justice League, even when Aquaman spearheaded a reorg. (It does not surprise me to learn that Aquaman felt the need to flex his muscles. The guy has gills; WOW, how SUPER!) He has a variety of superpowers that are just like Superman’s only different. Ummmmmm, yeah. And although he is of alien origin, he will lay down his life for humankind! Which is SUPER! Not DUMB, Mama! Heck, I’m a native here and I certainly wouldn’t risk death to save this pitiful species, but I guess they do things differently on Mars.
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